WTF?!--What the French

by Olivier Magny

  Just as Godwin’s law states that if an online discussion goes on long enough, no matter what is being discussed, sooner or later someone will compare someone or something to Hitler or Nazism, right-wing conservatives in France are likely to call someone a Bisounours eventually.

  Bisounours are typically criticized by their detractors for their angélisme—i.e., their blind idealism seeing only the best in people. Bisounours defend human rights—sometimes to extremes—and they want to build a more egalitarian society. In today’s France, idealists and altruists abound in the public discourse, but they are typically criticized for being naive and disconnected, as if pessimism and defiance equaled realism and pragmatism. As if being a grown-up meant we had to resign ourselves to the worst. Thankfully enough, cooperation in human societies is not idealism, but a very likely outcome in most interactions where people really do want the best for their country and their people. Recent exciting social developments like the idea of a base salary for all or the surge of community-supported agriculture (known in France as AMAPs, or associations pour le maintien d’une agriculture paysanne) all show that collaboration and improvement of messed-up systems are not always unrealistic.

  Useful tip: Let’s all do our share to make sure our world starts resembling the Bisounours’ world!

  Sound like a French person: “Alors lui, c’est les Bisounours . . . Tout le monde il est beau, tout le monde il est gentil!” (That guy’s all “Welcome to the world of Care Bears . . . Everything’s beautiful, everyone’s nice!”)

  FILLES ET FILS DE

  Over the past few years, French show business has become characterized by mind-boggling nepotism.

  Whether in music, film, or television, French screens and airwaves seem to be invaded by filles et fils de . . . (daughters and sons of . . .). Celebrity opens doors, fosters deference, and now even gets passed on to the next generation ancien régime style!

  What is fascinating is how widespread the phenomenon has become, in turn closing many doors to the unlucky ones not born with the right last name or connections.

  Artistic talent these days in France seems to be transmissible by blood. This is all the more amusing as French entertainers are typically chief enforcers of the leftist gospel according to which equality and openness should be the norm, anyone should be given the exact same chance, social privileges should be abolished, and redistribution is a blessing for mankind . . . even as they reap all the benefits of the lopsided reality.

  The well-known French exception culturelle according to which the rules that apply to all other industries should not apply to the entertainment industry world of culture (hey, this is France!) seems to work at both a macro and a micro level. The whole industry is therefore massively subsidized with public money and is now strikingly characterized by rampant nepotism. Perks of being special: your industry and your family simply don’t have to be subjected to the competitive hardships endured by the rest of the general population. Needless to say, living in this comfortable parallel reality makes it much easier to advocate for perpetuating a system viewed as quite functional, fair, and prosperous. Decidedly, most seem to fail to notice that their whole life, career, industry, and family embody the exact opposite of the propaganda and pseudo moral superiority they consistently impose on the general French public.

  With the acceptance and promotion of this new generation of fils de, the underlying message is that talent and beauty are hereditary. Watching a lot of these performers makes it rather clear how much of a fallacy that is. Back in the ancien régime, transmission of privileges was justified by the fact that it was dictated by God. Nowadays, in a secular and materialistic society, it is harder to justify that stardom and talent shall be passed on by blood.

  This change is one of the many reasons why so little French art and culture rise to the top. Striking beauties and talents fail to emerge when so many of the opportunities are taken not by those gifted with talent, but by those with connections.

  For your own delight, here is a nonexhaustive list of filles et fils de . . . involved in various aspects of the French entertainment industry.

  Nepotism, Anyone?

  Antoine de Caunes

  Emma de Caunes

  Serge Gainsbourg

  Charlotte Gainsbourg

  Jean-Pierre Cassel

  Vincent Cassel

  Catherine Deneuve

  Chiara Mastroianni

  Richard Bohringer

  Romane Bohringer

  Claude Lelouch

  Salomé Lelouch

  Guy Béart

  Emmanuelle Béart

  Gérard Jugnot

  Arthur Jugnot

  Fabrice Luchini

  Emma Luchini

  Jacques Dutronc

  Thomas Dutronc

  Jane Birkin

  Lou Doillon

  Marlène Jobert

  Eva Green

  Alain Delon

  Anthony Delon

  Johnny Hallyday

  Laura Smet

  Gérard Depardieu

  Julie Depardieu

  Louis Chedid

  M (Matthieu Chedid)

  Jacques Higelin

  Arthur H

  Richard Berry

  Marilou Berry

  Jean-François Stévenin

  Sagamore Stévenin

  Guy Bedos

  Nicolas Bedos

  Myriam Boyer

  Clovis Cornillac

  Jean-Pierre Castaldi

  Benjamin Castaldi

  Useful tip: Good song by a fils de: “Mama Sam” by M.

  Sound like a French person: “C’est la fille Depardieu, elle, non?” (She’s Depardieu’s daughter, isn’t she?)

  THE FRENCH LANGUAGE

  The French language is as beautiful as it is rich, precise, and demanding.

  From the subtlety of its vocabulary to the gentle elegance of its floating feminine presence, the French language is a true enchantment.

  While the English language transcribes the world as a given, the French language constantly offers the possibility to go beyond the obvious and reinvent the world. “You feel” in English may thus become tu ressens or vous éprouvez. Familiarity and emotions on the one side, distance and testing on the other. Opt for vous ressentez or tu éprouves and the resulting sentences will thus have to do with respectful interest or with friendly compassion. The French language, in essence, does not enunciate everything it says.

  There exists an incredibly deep well of choices available to the French speaker to characterize a person or to meaningfully place a verb or an adverb in a sentence. Each interaction in French offers the possibility not only to describe and communicate, but also to interpret and build multiple layers of complexity and meaning into each phrase spoken.

  A conversation between two people with a good command of French can be a marriage of gentle precision, of subtle open doors, and of polite refusals. To that extent, French was not so long ago the diplomatic language of choice par excellence.

  However, over the past few decades French has be
en battered and bruised. First and foremost in France, where the bar has been lowered on the general level of written and spoken French. French people all love to hear their language spoken well: they can recognize it at once, and very few can resist the charms of their language when it is truly honored. Unfortunately, hearing French beautifully spoken has become a rare treat. Politicians and journalists with a beautiful command of French are nowhere to be found. Since the seventies, the language has slowly become simplified, bastardized . . . Consequently, many young French grow up oblivious to the beauty, the charm, and the power of their own language.

  The French elite slowly lost the command of their own language as well. Just like a beautiful tennis court abandoned for lack of players and maintenance, the French language has slowly dwindled. With no role models for proper speaking, or teaching, the general population started to use an impoverished, flattened version of French. And just like that, while it lost much of its language, France also lost its unique voice.

  Overseas, English has gradually became the go-to language in diplomacy, in sports, in business, and now more and more so in French universities and schools. The language of the Anglo-American empire that the French elite have allowed to take precedence has been publicized as “cool” and advertised as necessary. Tempted by Beyoncé and inspired by Steve Jobs, most younger or urban French people now speak an impoverished French constantly sprinkled not only with English words, but with the superior promises these English words seem to contain.

  In France, the beautiful French language is asphyxiated. Unfortunately, so too is the world of soft elegance and measured subtlety over which a language like French can hold dominion.

  Useful tip: Go check out what your local Alliance Française has to offer!

  Sound like a French person: “Le français, c’est quand même une langue magnifique, putain!” (Damn it, French is actually a beautiful language!)

  LA BISE

  Very few things will confuse foreigners visiting France as much as la bise.

  La bise—often referred to as “the double-kiss thing” by foreigners—is indeed a bewildering French specialty. It follows rules that vary based on region and social setting. However, a few guidelines should help you come across as slightly less awkward, should you find yourself surrounded with bise-ing Frenchies:

  If you are a woman, the rule of thumb is that la bise is the norm to say your hellos and good-byes to anyone who could be mistaken for a family member, a friend, a friend of a friend, or a colleague.

  If you are a man, the general rule is that la bise applies to women who fall into the above category, and a handshake will work for the men.

  At a casual social gathering (party or dinner you’ve been invited to), it is normal for both men and women to faire la bise to women they’re meeting for the first time. Man-on-man action: stick to handshakes.

  Men bise-ing each other can happen. However, most likely it will not to men reading this book, as Frenchmen may kiss only other men who meet strict criteria: childhood friends, very close friends, family members, and members of their sports team (particularly common among rugby players).

  If you are to interact with someone you’ve never met in a public place (restaurant, bar, club, shop), no physical contact is needed, you lucky thing.

  Should you have a good interaction with a stranger in a public setting (good conversation at a bar, fun tutoring session, etc.), if you’re a woman, you might graduate from no physical contact for hellos to la bise for good-byes. Typically, one of these two lines will be pronounced before the bise becomes a reality:

  On se fait la bise?

  or

  Bon allez, on se fait la bise!

  Either of these phrases means the person has enjoyed your company and now feels a greater connection to you and is casually validating that they’re about to get closer and kiss you. Take it as a ritual graduation thing: the first step toward befriending a French person. Man on man, as usual: stick to handshakes!

  Once the bise has been exchanged, it is considered the new norm for this given relationship. Each French person has a precise mental database of people with whom they font la bise and people with whom they don’t.

  The number of bises depends on the region. Your best bet is to base your moves on two kisses. That will be the rule of thumb in Paris, for instance. Travel to Montpellier, and prepare for that third one! Up to five can be acceptable in certain parts of France. On your first bise experience, make sure to memorize the number of bises, as it is most likely the one prevailing in the area. When in doubt, just consult the Web site www.CombienDe Bises.com (literally, HowManyBises.com). Yup, it is a real thing!

  And remember, with all this bise-ing, form is essential. Don’t be a weirdo! Faire la bise does not consist of kissing the other person on each cheek. That is what weird French uncles do at family gatherings. A properly executed bise means air-kissing when your upper cheek touches the other person’s upper cheek. Be delicate.

  When a French person runs into someone they haven’t seen in a long time and gets a joyful and enthusiastic bise, this exchange typically gets recounted as follows: Il m’a embrassé comme du bon pain! Translation: “He kissed me like good bread!”

  Surprisingly enough to many foreigners who view French people as oversexualized beasts of seduction, la bise does not have a sexual connotation at all! Who’s the oversexualized one now . . . ?

  Useful tip: While bise-ing, a hand on the shoulder is appropriate if you wish to convey true joy about seeing the person.

  Sound like a French person: “Ah, c’est combien ici? Trois? Quatre? Je sais jamais!” (How many is it around here? Three? Four? I never know!)

  WEALTH

  Most countries in the world are home to a wealthy upper class, but in recent years France has ceased to be such a country. One simple word can explain this phenomenon: taxes.

  Four decades of rampant socialism have led to the French tax man either capturing or chasing away most of the wealth created in the country.

  Very few Westerners can understand the depth, the amplitude, and the consequences of the phenomenon at hand in France.

  Saying that the French tax man is greedy is a gross understatement. For the richer class of French people, the level of contribution paid through taxes slowly ceased to be viewed as fair. Consequently, they started to leave the country, taking their wealth with them.

  That was step one of the bleeding: rich families leaving the country.

  After targeting people with cash and assets, the French government started to target people about to cash in on years of hard work: entrepreneurs. By choosing to apply an additional tax for entrepreneurs selling their businesses, they triggered a massive emigration (to Belgium, mostly) of successful entrepreneurs willing to sell their businesses without having to be up-charged for the umpteenth time by the government.

  Step two of the bleeding: hardworking, creative, successful (and newly rich) entrepreneurs—gone.

  But driving rich people out is not enough. A perfect socialist society cannot be complete without making it extremely difficult to become wealthy to begin with. The solution? You guessed it: taxes. High taxation of anyone educated or hardworking (or stupid) enough to be in a position to create significant value sealed the deal by progressively making it very difficult to accumulate real wealth in France. In short: try to create value in France and most of it will be captured before you get to enjoy it.

  The last option for a more comfortable lifestyle is to inherit assets. But then again, the French tax man awaits, ready to capture most of the value your parents or grandparents worked their whole lives to accumulate. Mom and Dad worked hard—the French tax man thanks them.

  The systematic racketeering of any value creation paired with the constant emigration of hundreds of thousands of rich, creative, and hardworking French people leaves France in a very pec
uliar situation: a country that is rich on paper but where cash is nowhere to be found.

  Useful tip: Mo’ money, mo’ problems!

  Sound like a French person: “L’argent ne fait pas le bonheur.” (Money can’t buy happiness.)

  THE WEIGHT MYTH

  From what we’ve been hearing in the United States, “Frenchwomen don’t get fat.”

  Quite the statement that is.

  Now, given the numbers laid out in the coming pages concerning the amount of fast food the French people consume and their heavy Italian favorites, either Frenchwomen are genetic freaks or we might have ourselves a bit of an urban legend here. Looking into numbers reveals that nutrition and genetics are boringly unsurprising.

  Between 1997 and 2009, obesity nearly doubled in France. And if I were naughty, I would stress that the rate is actually higher among women than men, jumping from 8.5 percent in 1997 to 16 percent in 2014.* In 2014, the pizza/pasta/sandwich/kebab diet left a staggering 46 percent of the French population either obese or overweight.* In all fairness, cheeses, charcuterie, and pastries don’t help, and we all know that the French can sure hold their own in front of a cheese platter.*